


On The Matter of Eye Contact

by orphan_account



Category: Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Changelings, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Liberal use of cream, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, rated for language, the tommy scene was my favorite to write and it shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the unremarkable town Gordon grew up in, faerie tales were nothing more than just that: tales. He wasn't superstitious; he hadn't been raised to search for signs of faerie blood in every person he met....which meant he hadn't even treated a gray-skinned security guard with a shifting face as deserving even the slightest bit of reverence. And upsetting a fae meant paying the price.Fortunately, Benrey was more annoying than malicious, so the price was any goddamn time to himself.-Gordon Freeman realizes that he is completely entangled in faerie bullshit.
Relationships: Benrey & Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon is endgame for this au, Coomer/Bubby if you squint and tilt your head, Dr. Coomer & Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman, but not yet - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 103





	On The Matter of Eye Contact

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the course of one day, mostly in the middle of the night, and have done minimal editing! If you spot a problem, blame that /j.

"Bro, don't call me a 'faerie'."

Gordon blinked at the man lying, sprawled, on his couch. "So… you're not denying it?" From the stories he'd heard, faeries did not like to be recognized as such. He'd expected to at least be met with _some_ resistance.

Benrey shrugged - very helpful for reading his emotion, since his voice was more often than not flat, and his face was impossible to focus on - and continued. "Gives off the wrong impression," he said, seemingly ignoring the question. "People hear 'faerie' and think 'fairy.' Start expecting Tinker Bell or some shit. Just say 'fae.' Sounds more- more intimidating."

"Would it kill you to give me a straight answer?"

Gordon had been stuck with the feeling something was _wrong_ for the past few weeks. He'd tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of eyes on his back. And once a certain security guard had started appearing at his apartment, even a fool would be able to put two and two together.

"I'm offended you ever even thought I was human," Benrey answered. The most explicit answer Gordon would get, probably.

"Ah." 

And that was that.

-

Gordon, loathe as he was to admit it, was not a nice man. He wasn't rude without reason, of course, but he did not let go of a grudge easily. In that way, he wasn't all that different from the fae. There was a reason he didn't have much of a social life outside of work. 

With this in mind, Gordon was absurdly lucky he hadn't pissed off a fae earlier. The first one he ever met, and he immediately managed to get himself into debt. The fae collected over the smallest of perceived slights, and Gordon's were far from small.

In the unremarkable town Gordon grew up in, faerie tales were nothing more than just that: tales. He wasn't superstitious; he hadn't been raised to search for signs of faerie blood in every person he met.

...which meant he hadn't even treated a gray-skinned security guard with a shifting face as deserving even the slightest bit of reverence. And upsetting a fae meant paying the price.

Fortunately, Benrey was more annoying than malicious, and, at least for the time being, the price was any goddamn time to himself. At least the sprite was good with Joshua.

-

"Can I ask you a question?"

Benrey turned his head up from his (read: Gordon's) phone. "Fae don't usually give out favors."

"Trust me, I've realized." Gordon settled at the other end of his couch. He'd already done so much to piss Benrey off that any extra debt meant nothing. "Have I met any other faer- er, fae?"

"Duh. Yea." Benrey turned back down to the phone. "You're fun to mess with. 'Course we're drawn to you like- like you've got cream dripping from your fingers or something."

Ah. "That's... not encouraging. Can you tell me who?"

"Huh?" Benrey could be absorbed in whatever absurdly loud game he was playing, but more likely, it was a cover for just ignoring the question. "What?"

Nice try, but Gordon wasn't going to let the topic go that easily. "Who do I know that's a fae?"

Benrey mumbled something incomprehensible. "What, are you scared? Worried one's gonna steal your son away in his sleep?"

What? "No, I-"

"Don't have to worry about it." Benrey looked back up from the phone, and for a brief moment, it was like a fog was lifted from his head. The fae's features came into focus, a shark-toothed grin and one yellow eye, pupil slit. "They won't bother you."

"... _what?"_

And as quickly as it became clear, Benrey's face blurred again, his head drifting back towards the phone screen. "Huh?" 

"What- what do you mean?" Gordon stood up, began inching closer to Benrey's face. "I think I have- like, a right to know what's going on with my life. I don't want you playing tug-o-war with me as the rope!"

Benrey only responded by humming, if one note could be called as much, as light began to drift in and out of Gordon's vision - blue to a deep shade of red.

Tommy had once told Gordon that light and illusions were the language of faeries. If that were the case, then it was Benrey's first.

"Ah… good to know." Gordon plucked his phone from Benrey's hands, ignoring the grunt of protest. "I'll just… go now."

"Hey, you go shopping on Mondays," Benrey said from behind him. "You should buy more cream tomorrow."

"I'm not letting you get drunk in my house." It wouldn't be a hill he was willing to die on normally, but when it came to fae, he was already dead. Then again, if Benrey's analogy was anything to go by, it wouldn't make much of a difference.

-

Tommy was admirably collected - calm and smiling, even when in the worst situations. The only time he'd ever acted noticeably upset with Gordon was - well, approximately ten seconds ago, when asked about fae obscuring their features. Even from the other end of the phone, Gordon could hear his fingers drumming against the case. _Thump, thump, thump._

"Why do- what makes you ask, Mr. Freeman?" Tommy's words were almost drowned out by the constant _thump, thump_ of nails on plastic.

"Benrey's fucking weird," Gordon replied, drifting down the dairy aisle at the grocery store. 

"No, I- _I know that_. I've known him longer than you have," Tommy hissed. "I mean- his face is always sort of blurry, right? Why ask now?"

"I saw it yesterday." Gordon's hands drifted to a carton of cream. He _was_ out, but he was also a spiteful being.

"Oh. That's- that was nice of him. Benrey usually doesn't let people see his face unless they- unless he thinks they're trustworthy."

"Oh." Gordon grabbed an extra carton of milk instead. He could say he mistook it for cream; the ability to lie was truly a blessing. "Can't say I'm surprised. He basically owns me, the fuck could I do to him?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he does."

"But like… why blur it out in the first place?"

Tommy hummed thoughtfully. _Thump, thump_. "Well, generally fair folk don't- faerie features are centered on the face, right? Like, the eyes and teeth. But small illusions and glamours don't take much energy. So- so we adjust facial features to help blend in."

Gordon began to push his cart down the aisle. "His skin's fucking _gray_ , blurring out his eye's not gonna-" He froze, falling silent for a beat. "Wait- _we?_ "

 _Thump-thump-thump_ . "Oh- oh, right. Sorry, one moment, Mr. Freeman." There was the distinct sound of fabric rubbing against the phone, then a muffled noise that could have been Tommy hissing _"fuck"_ or a resigned groan, not that it mattered much because he was already talking before Gordon could quite process it. "I- I haven't told you, have I?"

Gordon suppressed a groan of his own. "No. No you haven't." 

There was a beat of silence as Gordon waited for an explanation that didn't come. "Tommy, answer me bluntly. Are you fae?"

"Yes. No?" _Thump-thump-thump_. "It's- it depends."

What the fuck did that mean. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Words have _connotations_ , Mr. Freeman." _Thump-thump-thump-thump_ . "People generally think of 'fae' as being tricksters, cheaters, the like. And those aren't _uncommon_ traits among the Fair Folk, but- they're learned, not inherited. So, if you use that definition, then fae are raised by other fae."

Gordon wasn't a dumbass; he could connect the dots. "And you weren't?"

"No, I-" Tommy paused and breathed deeply in. _Thump thump_. "Mr. Freeman, I'm a changeling. It's not a- I'm sorry I haven't told you, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just an awkward… an awkward topic to bring up, so I guess I. Forgot to."

Oh. "I- uh, I'm sorry?"

"Don't be." _Thump_ . "I- most people think changelings are left maliciously, but that's not usually the case. Faeries tend to be more resilient than humans." _Thump, thump, thump_ . "Emotionally, I mean. So when I- when _they,_ the human, got left in the foster system, some faerie wanted to save them. They took a vulnerable human and left me behind. I'm sure whatever person used to be me is happy and safe now, and I am too. It's a kindness, really." _Thump-thump_.

"...seems reckless to me. Didn't parents used to leave kids out in the woods, if they thought the child was a changeling?"

Tommy was silent for a long moment. "Faeries are emotionally resilient, but not- not physically." _Thump-thump-thump_. "I said it was a kindness. Not that it was flawless."

"Oh."

They both stayed silent for a long, long moment. _How_ was Gordon supposed to lift the mood now? He mentally fumbled for any new conversation point."So uh- you said that _'we_ adjust facial features.' Do you use glamours?" Yeah, that would do.

The sound of Tommy's fingers grew quicker and lighter, a tap instead of a thump; relief was evident in his voice. "Changelings have to look human, you know? So the more time we- we spend in this world, the more human we start to look." _Tap-tap-tap-tap_. "But eyes are- you know the saying, 'eyes are windows to the soul?' So they never really change." Now that Gordon thought about it, he never had gotten a good look at Tommy's eyes. "But, uh, it's really unsettling to see faerie eyes on a human face. Uncanny. So we usually use small glamours to- to push people's eyes away. Help them feel comfortable." 

Gordon hummed acknowledgment and continued walking down the aisle, before turning back and pulling a single carton of cream into his cart. He'd stop by Tommy's place on the way back home.

-

Gordon wasn't forced to acknowledge the faerie bullshit he'd walked into for another two weeks. The Coomer household had heard about his Monday grocery runs and requested he pick some stuff up for them.

"Hey, delivery boy's here," Gordon would have made a comment about locked doors and safety, but it felt unnecessary. Any attempted thieves were in more danger of the residents than the other way around.

"Ah, hello Gordon!" One Dr. Coomer sat at the couch, a steaming mug on the coffee table. "Set them in the kitchen? You're welcome to stay for a cup of coffee."

Gordon did as instructed. "That sounds nice, if you don't mind." 

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mind. There's a clean mug already out."

Sure enough, a pale orange mug with a company logo Gordon had never seen before sat on the counter. Gordon poured himself a drink, rifling through the groceries to get a fresh carton of cream and pour probably-too-much in. 

He drifted back into the living room, where Coomer was now rhythmically stirring his own drink. Gordon found himself sitting next to the other man, sipping his own drink. It was far too hot.

"Can I ask you a question?" Oh, okay. "Bubby isn't human, is he?" That wasn't where he planned for his day to go, but okay.

Harold Coomer was human - as human as they came. His eyes, his teeth, and his every action made that clear, but Gordon trusted him to tell the truth as much as any faerie. Possibly even more so. Trust was a better foundation to build the truth on than a rule.

"Of course not, Gordon. Certainly not like you and I." 

"I figured as much," Gordon muttered. It was obvious, once the idea was there, and there was nothing better than his conversation with Tommy to put it in his head. Gordon had never seen Bubby's eyes, always hidden behind shiny glasses with a prescription much stronger than Gordon's own, and his needle-sharp teeth were impossible to ignore. "But- what?" 

Dr. Coomer was silent for a long, long moment. "Humans and fae aren't meant to coexist, you know," he said, still stirring his drink. "We're too different on a fundamental level. We follow different rules, and come from different worlds. But we share one trait - stubbornness. And so, we've lived alongside each other for years. But anything more intimate is impossible to maintain." He spoke with a strange certainty. There was a story there, but Gordon figured he didn't have the time to hear it. "Of course, Black Mesa's research is nothing if not impossible." 

Gordon groaned, set his mug on the coffee table, and bent over to rest his head in his hands. "Will I ever escape this faerie bullshit?"

"Fuck no!"

 _Like you've got cream dripping from your fingers._

"Once a faerie gets their hands on you, they never let go, huh?" 

"Humans are no different."

Gordon sat back up and reached for his mug. "What is he, then?" An " _intimate_ " combination of human and fae… the very idea felt unnerving. Fitting.

"I've heard the term 'halfling' before," Commer responded, taking a long sip from his coffee. "Though it's only used theoretically, and Bubby seems to dislike it."

A hybrid. The strange illusions of a fae, the physical resilience of humans. A fittingly horrifying concept. "...what's iron do to him?"

"I've never seen him get an iron burn, though I suppose it's not impossible." Coomer's eyes seemed to light up; this was a topic he was passionate about. "And I believe the amount of salt he eats is purely out of spite."

"That… doesn't sound healthy."

"Oh, it's most certainly not!"

-

"The fuck are you doing?"

Gordon turned away from the dish of cream he'd set on his windowsill. "You said you fae-types are drawn to me right? 'Cream dripping from my fingers?' Figured I might as well embrace it."

"You'll- now I'm gonna have to scare off somebody looking for an easy guy to trick, man," Benrey grumbled from his position on the kitchen table. "I didn't mean that _literally_ . You- it was a _simile_ , bro. That's the word."

"By all means, feel free to correct yourself." Gordon understood why Benrey was frustrated, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give him an easy time over it. What did you mean when you said you're 'drawn to me'?"

Benrey gave him the least impressed look possible without a perceivable face, then began to hum at a pitch high enough to rival a dogwhistle. Gordon winced as bright colors, so bright they hurt to look at, danced in his vision, silver and blue.

"Yeah, yeah, point taken." Gordon turned to close the window, leaving the dish out. "But you don't seem all that concerned about Tommy and Bubby."

"'Course I'm not worried about them. They're my bros. Don't have to worry 'bout them stepping on my toes."

"'Stepping on your toes?'" Gordon turned to face Benrey again, who had since laid down, still on the table. "You're talking about _my_ life, you know."

(Somewhere, in the back of Gordon's mind, colors spun, blue to burgundy.)

Gordon was barely about to imagine Benrey's cheshire grin, sharp and unnerving. "You pissed me off first. Until I collect, don't get yourself in any other debts, 'kay? 'S dangerous for whoever holds it."

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious, here's my reasoning for the species.  
> Benrey was... the entire inspirstion for this au. Before I even watched the series, or knew anything beyond what I'd absorbed from my mutuals, I knew with absolute certainty that that's a fucking faerie. The actual series did nothing but encourage me.  
> As for Tommy, well. I'm autistic, so I like Tommy and I relate to changelings. So I added two and two together, and guess what it added up to? The changeling lore I had in mind also fit, so I ran with it.  
> Bubby was sort of reverse-engineering. I said "okay, he's definitely not human" and kicked around ideas until I found something that stuck. Don't ask for more details because I... haven't got them ^^''.  
> Ignore the replies. I'm not going to be doing anything with this AU anymore.


End file.
